Fate's Not So Kind
by Zivandre
Summary: When Draco fails at killing Dumbledore, he did not expect his punishment, nor his fate.


Draco Malfoy stood at the slope of Hogwarts, he looked out over the grounds and said his silent goodbye. The castle didn't look as it normally did; full of healthy magical auras, a pristine calm laying over the grounds. No, as he said his goodbyes to the castle, it looked like death. There was a Dark Mark slithering in the air above the Astronomy tower, the windows were lit by spells of green and red, haunting screams of the children inside tore through the air.

Severus had soon caught his attention, and after sending one last look of nostalgia and sadness, he left. When he landed through the dim, smothering tube of apparition, he righted his robes before stalking off to his room. He didn't wait to know that the Dark Lord was waiting, he already knew.

He slipped off as fast as he could get to his room, hoping his mother was there waiting. The Dark Lord did not like failure, and he would be lucky enough to get out of this alive. He at least wanted to say goodbye to his mother in peace, however.

When he arrived in his childhood room, he ignored the emerald green walls and black carpet. He didn't glance at his king four poster bed with satin silk sheets that were silver and black. He did however, stop at his mahogany desk that was stained black, rubbing his majestic owl that sat on her perch. He noticed two unopened letters on his desk, but he ignored them; if he lived, it would leave him something to read.

He soon stepped through a hidden doorway that doubled as his bookshelf. He took a glance around the room, and noticed the fire was dying down. The plush black leather couch still had a indentation from someone sitting there. He waited, helping himself to the tea that was laid out on the coffee table.

Only two people knew that this room existed. One was at Hogwarts, while the other was most likely in the attached bathroom. Draco looked up when the door opened, and watched as as his mother swept out of the adjoining room. She soon settled herself on the couch, and swept her only son up into a strong-gripped hug.

"I'm so glad you're home, I just wish it was on better terms," Narcissa stated.

"I still have to see _him,_ I wanted to see you first, mother. How are you?"

"Managing. I stay in here mostly. I added a bedroom for me. I can't stand being in my own home anymore. I'm sorry that we can't do better right now, Draco."

Agreeing with his mother, they settled into a small, comfortable silence. As the minutes passed, Draco resolved himself and reigned his emotions in. He soon stood, and told his mother to wait here.

When he arrived in their formal dining room, he looked upon the once great and magnificent room to see that he had called a full meeting. Severus was bound and kneeling on a raised dais in front of the fireplace. Draco knew that he would be joining him. Bowing his head, he spoke.

"I apologize my Lord. I could not complete the task."

"Silence! _Crucio._ I did not ask you to speak! Now, go kneel by your godfather!"

Crouching low on the ground, Draco prepared himself to be bound by ropes. What he didn't expect however, was for the ropes to feel like they were burning and shredding his flesh and in pain, he lowered his head.

His torture would be long.

When the formal meeting was concluded, Voldemort vanished the large table and chairs, and headed towards Draco.

"You are a weak minded fool! I gave you one simple task, and yet you could not complete it!" Shouted Voldemort's harsh voice.

Voldemort banished the ropes, and Draco's stiff body fell forward.

"Fenrir, come here," whispered Voldemort. As the werewolf sauntered forward, Draco pleaded to the Gods to not let him meet this fate.

He dimly heard of Voldemort telling Fenrir to bite, but not kill him. The pain was sudden, harsh and brutal. He had bit him on his shoulder. His long canines had skimmed the top of his collarbone, blood was leaking out of his wound before it had the chance to clot.

Everything was on fire, and he wished death would claim him as his own. But he was not so lucky. Soon, he fell unconscious.


End file.
